


Stardate HR1628307.997, or, A Pirate Looks At Forty

by redtailedhawk90



Category: The Room Where It Happened (Podcast)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Commander Evans is a fucking asshole, Found Family Feels, Gen, Referenced past Transphobia, S2: The Bleed, but doesn't feature heavily here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtailedhawk90/pseuds/redtailedhawk90
Summary: Owain hasn't celebrated their birthday since the war ended. The Shelbys have other plans.
Relationships: Owain Evans/The Wyvern
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Secret Druids of the Stones 2020 (A Standing Stones Fanwork Exchange)





	Stardate HR1628307.997, or, A Pirate Looks At Forty

It was kind of strange, being back on Tupelo again. It felt like eons since they’d last been here, but it had only been, what? Six months? Owain pressed their hand against their chest as they wound down the Wyvern’s engines. Even through their shirt, they could feel the raised edges of the scar where Kerry had opened their sternum to get at the damage the Butcher’s boys had caused.

 _Please tell me you won’t do something that foolish again,_ the Wyvern said, their words bubbling up in Owain’s mind. 

Owain quirked a small smile and patted the console. “I promise,” they said. “I didn’t exactly enjoy the experience, either, you know.”

 _At least_ you _were unconscious for most of it._

It would be fine. Nothing was going to go wrong. This was just a regular drop-off and refuel stop--the crew hadn’t gotten on anyone’s bad side since they left Kencha, and so long as they continued to keep their heads down, they’d be _fine._

Maybe if Owain thought it enough times, it would be true.

“All right y’all,” Owain said over the intercoms, “I only wanna be here for a few hours, so if you leave the ship, don’t dawdle.” Calling Mads to heel, they made their way out to the dock and the refueling station. The man behind the counter at the register was white-haired and weathered, with gnarled hands that spoke of either arthritis or run-ins with the kinds of folk who liked to make examples out of thieves. He squinted at the papers Owain handed him, but otherwise didn’t comment; Owain imagined he was used to ignoring the particulars, and merely checked for appearances’ sake. 

“You be needing anything else?” the man asked, after Owain paid for the docking fee and their fuel. Absent-mindedly--already thinking about where to head next--Owain picked out a six-pack of beer he knew Molly would drink if they didn’t. They were already turning away when the dock owner called out behind them, “Have a good one. And happy birthday.”

Startled, Owain looked down at the ID in their lap, perched between two of the bottles in the six-pack. It had their real birthday on it. They must have handed the man their actual ID by mistake. 

Had it been a year already?

Owain didn’t much like to mark their birthday. They’d hated it growing up, so ever since the end of the war, they just...never told anyone when it was. And anyways, it felt strange and empty, like they were missing something important, so they tried to ignore it whenever they could. Sure, Molly had tried to cajole it out of them a time or two, and they may have actually spilled the date that night they and Kerry had gotten so drunk Owain fell asleep in their chair, but Owain had not minced words whenever anyone asked about celebrating: they had no intention to, and if anyone tried, they’d be riding on the _outside_ of the ship from then on.

Back in the cockpit, the Wyvern picked up on their shift in mood almost immediately. _Did something happen? What’s wrong?_

“It’s nothing,” Owain said. Then, mentally, they added, _I just hadn’t realized it was my birthday._

There was a pause. _My research tells me that a birthday is usually a celebratory occasion. Is that not the case?_

_For most people, it is. It’s a day you spend with your friends and your family and celebrate living through another year._

_Okay._ There was another pause. _I’m sure WINTER would--_

“No!” Mads picked his head up at Owain’s shout, and they could feel the Wyvern recoil a little from their mind. _Sorry. No. I just--it’s different, for me. Ever since I--_ Committed treason, they didn’t say. _\--left the Rickies, it’s just not something I celebrate._ They rubbed the back of their neck. _I never really liked them much growing up, anyway. All pomp and circumstance, like I was a--a_ trophy _for him to show off. ‘Look at how my son has grown, look at all he has accomplished.’ Couldn’t even get my damn pronouns right until I threatened to drop out of the Academy. Joke’s on him, right?_ They forced a laugh.

A sense of warmth and softness enveloped them, and it took them a long moment to realize that this must be the Wyvern equivalent of a hug. They relaxed into it and tried to transmit a mirror of it back.

 _Well,_ the Wyvern said, _I am glad that you have survived another year. Despite your best attempts otherwise._

Owain snorted. _Me too._

They fell into companionable silence, Owain taking the time to catch up on their email, and before Owain knew it, the dock owner was hailing them to say that they were fueled up and ready to go.

“Uh, hey Owain?” Molly’s shout floated down the hallway not long after Owain put out the call for takeoff in T-30 minutes. “Can you come help me with somethin’? I’m in the mess.” Frowning, they disengaged their wheel locks and followed her voice.

“What is it, Molly? Can’t it wait until we’re in the--” They froze as they rounded the doorway.

There were seven people crowded into the Wyvern’s tiny dining area. Molly stood at the front of the group, her arm around the waist of Samson Shelby, who was grinning like a fool. Pound, Dee, and Kerry were squished in the back, wearing little party hats--Pound’s was perched atop his shoulders, his ‘head’ nowhere in sight. Carroway Shelby was leaning against the counter, pouring drinks with a flourish, and sitting on the counter next to her was Cooper, smiling softly. And WINTER--WINTER was holding a cake, uneven and lumpy, with chocolate frosting and a very precise ‘Happy Birthday’ scrawled across the top in blue.

“What the fuck,” Owain said quietly. 

“Surprise!” cried Molly with a dramatic gesture. “The Shelbys called and asked when your birthday was, and I told them that you always kept it secret from me, but wouldn’t you know it? Kerry knew all along! And so--”

“Molly--”

“-- as soon as I told them we was gonna be refueling here today, these kids made a beeline to meet us. Had it all planned out, they did! Said, ‘Owain’s a Shelby now--”

“ _Molly_ \--”

“--we can’t have them feelin’ like no one cares about their birthday!’ And I _told_ them, I did, that we _did_ care about your birthday, but you jus’ didn’t like all the celebratin’, but they wasn’t hearing none of it. So I said--”

“MOLLY.”

Owain’s throat was tight and burning; they could barely make themself heard over Molly’s explanation. But finally, she fell silent. Maybe Sam’s hand on her shoulder had gotten through to her more than their voice had. Everyone looked at Owain expectantly--some with more wariness than others.

“I--” They swallowed hard, their throat clicking. It did nothing to alleviate the tightness there. They tried to summon anger at the thought of their crew going against their express wishes, but something was fluttering in their chest, under the scar they’d gained trying to protect their friends, and they found that they couldn’t think of a single damn thing to say.

“You’re a Shelby now,” Sam said, when it became clear Owain had no words. “And regardless of whatever may have been your experience before, that means spending time with family _,_ an’ eating cake, an’ drinking too much, an’ having a good time.”

That did it. Owain’s vision swam, and they tried to wipe at their eyes before the tears started to fall, but it was no use. They hid their face in their hands instead. It was absurd, to break down over something like this. Absolutely, objectively absurd. But the thought that the Shelbys and their crew had put so much effort into planning this and getting everyone together--even as small a party as it was--was overwhelming. Family, Sam had said. This was their _family._

“Oh no,” they heard WINTER say. “None of my research indicated they would begin leaking. Is this normal?” Laughter bubbled up and Owain started giggling despite themself. The giggle turned into a chuckle, and soon their ribs were hurting with the force of their laughter. It was the contagious sort, too, because it seemed like everyone joined in; it was several minutes before anyone had control enough of themself to explain the joke to WINTER.

The Shelbys had already paid the dock owner for the extra hours, so Owain let themself relax--gingerly, carefully--into the experience. Carroway passed out drinks while Molly and Kerry regaled everyone with stories of the crew’s many, many jobs and the various ways Owain had either gotten them out of, or into, trouble. The Wyvern kept up a running commentary in the back of Owain’s mind, clearly amused: _Oh, I remember that one!_ and _Wasn’t that the time you blew out my engine so bad we were grounded for a week?_ Owain found themself smiling and laughing along, throwing in corrections here and there to Molly’s obvious exaggerations. WINTER’s cake, too, was delicious--the best they’d ever had, in fact, although maybe that had to do with the company--and Owain was effusive with their praise, not stopping until WINTER’s screen lit up with the

°˖✧o(* ^ヮ^ *)o✧˖°

that meant they were truly pleased.

Owain felt a knot in their chest ease--like a muscle they hadn’t even known they’d been tensing. And when it came time to say goodbye, they returned Sam’s bear hug with equal enthusiasm. The big man laughed and pounded them on the back.

“Now, you best know we’ll be showing up for all the holidays, too. Even the silly ones.” Sam pulled back a little and winked. “If you ain’t experienced Arbor Day with the Shelbys, you ain’t experienced it at all.”

Owain squeezed a little tighter. “Sure thing,” they said. Then, as they lowered themself back into their chair, something occurred to them. “And hey, thank you.” They smirked. “... _baby_ brother.” Carroway and Coop immediately whooped with laughter, and Owain’s smirk grew into a grin as Sam caught up, his face screwed into a truly priceless mask of shock. 

“Now hang on a minute--” Sam began, but Owain was already wheeling themself back up the ramp into the cargo bay. 

“Thank you Sam!” they said as they waved goodbye. “Thank you Coop! Thank you Carroway!” And, buoyed by a sense of belonging they hadn’t felt in a long, long time, Owain made their way to the cockpit and prepared for takeoff.

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:  
> The Wyvern Crew + The Shelbys - Owain's first birthday since being adopted by the Shelbys and they intend to deliver. Plotting with the crew to get where the Wyvern is, the Shelbys show up with gifts, food and alcohol. // FOUND. FAMILY. FEELS XD


End file.
